Home sweet home (Le doucer du foyer - Casa dolce casa)
by The Italian Temeraire
Summary: A storm hits NYC, an under the weather Neal is forced to The Burkes'. It turns up a sweet week-end for the lovely couple and their favourit conman. A classical H/C story, translated, from French in Italian, and from Italian in English. All mistakes are mine!
1. Chapter 1

Hi everybody! That's the first story I publish here, even if that's not my own story, it's a translation from a fic, already translated by **DeAnna **, in Italian with the title of "Casa dolce casa" from the original version written in French by **Azertinyn** **, **originally entitled "Le doucer du foyer". I'm an Italian girl who's studying languages, so my traslation might (very likely) contain mistakes. I'd be glad if you could give me advice about anything that you think it could be improved. I'm still studying, I'm not graduated yet, so any feedback would be appreciated, so that i can improve my language! It's a very lovely story, I've liked it from the first time I've read it. I hope you can love it too, (obvoiusly adviced for the hurt/comfort lovers).

I obviously don't own any of these characters. All right goes to Jeff Eastin

As the story's not mine, I'd be glad to read any review with feedback, even if I've no credits in it. Thanks for reading. :)

Chapters will be posted asap!

The Italian Temeraire

New York, Friday, January 14th

The raging storm was at its peak, the windshield wiper couldn't cope with it and Peter was fighting against the heavy snow that prevented him from seeing more than two meters ahead , while he was trying to drive Neal to June before the streets would be obstructed by the snow.

As soon as the alarm concerning the blizzard had been raised, Hughes had recommended his crew to hurry home, before being forced to stay the night in the FBI headquarters.

Peter had quickly stacked in boxes his current cases files on which his crew had been working during the past few hours, one for Diana, one for Jones, one for Neal and another one for could be able to go on working comfortably from their warm and safe houses, until the storm would cease and the streets would be cleaned by snowplows.

Neal stared absently at the big snowflakes that hit the windshield

It was only 4 pm but the sky was so dark and gloomy that the streetlights and the auto headlight were already on. Few meters ahead they could make out the figure of a vehicle and its blurry red rear had been stacked there for at least ten minutes. In only half an hour the New York streets had been covered with a layer of snow that made driving a dangerous task, maybe some car obstructed the crossroads a few hundred meters forward!

"Damn it! We'll never make it! We're going to be stuck here for hours!"

Peters words and his upset tone woke Neal from his thoughts.

"Peter we're only two blocks away from your house. You're not gonna be able to go back home after dropping me off at June. Leave me here. I can easily take a cab... Or maybe I could simply walk! I'd make it quickly on foot in this way!"

"Are you eager to stretch your legs?"

"More or less..."

Actually it was definitely less then more...!

The last case had worn Neal out. They had worked day and night to catch an art fence. Neal had pretended to be a buyer, earning his trust until reaching his warehouse near the Harbour, where the wares were stocked. He had spent the hours before the arrest keeping an eye on it, lurking near the sea, in the cold wind, waiting for the moment to call Peter. The arrest had been clean and fast, without the need to shoot any bullet and with unequivocal proofs of the felony.

Neal had woken up the day after with a fierce headache, a bad sore throat and muscles aches throughout his whole body

As always after having closed a tough case successfully, Peter had brought out some cold cases to be rewieved by his crew, to allow them to work at the bureau for a few days.

From his admission to the White Collar Division, Neal had been closing many cold cases only by taking a look at them and finding something that had slipped at his fellows' eyes!However in that moment and in his current state, he knew that he was hardly able to stay stick to one single case!

"In the name of...!"

Peter had just swerved sharply towards the sidewalk in order to avoid crashing into the vehicle ahead

"Peter !" Shouted Neal

"Yeah, I got it!" Frowned the older man turning left and heading towards his house

After moving off from the main street, they preceded in a quiet street half a mile from the Burkes' house. Despite the lack of traffic, the agent drove slowly and carefully in the foggy snowy weather, so that he wouldn't have to brake suddenly

Neal sunk in the car seat and closed his eyes hoping that it could ease the headache that had been annoying him the entire day. He laid his head against the cold window, seeking some relief.

He must be really exhausted if closing his eyes for a little time made him feel sleepy!

Once they arrived at the Burkes' house, Peter woke him up with a shake on his shoulder.

"Hey sleeping beauty, the carriage has reach its destination! And... Unless you have a pair of ski I can't make out how you could reach June's house, given the quantity of snow! Mi casa es tu casa, at least until the situation gets better..."

"I think I will survive a night at the Burkes'!

The freezing air that suddenly entered the car after Peter had opened the car door made Neal shiver.

He fastened up his coat and pulled up his collar under his chin before opening his car door. Something was blocking it, preventing it from opening more the few inches. The more he pushed the more he got blocked.

"Stop it Neal!" Yelled Peter "there's a snowdrift on the sidewalk, the more you push the more the door get blocked! Hold on a second!"

Neal cast a glance at the rear-view mirror and could see Peter bringing out a shover from the trunk. Always ready, for any situation! He thought smiling.

Within few minutes Peter cleaned the sidewalk at Neal's feet and then opened the back door to fetch the file boxes. He gave one of them to Neal and hold the other one with his left arm, while with his right one was looking for his car keys in one of his coat pockets.

He was hurrying so that the files wouldn't get wet to much but the stairs were slippery and Peter would have fallen if Neal hadn't caught him just in had put down the box to support him, but the agent weight nearly made the two of them fall into the snow.

"Everything all right Peter?"

"Wonderful! All the files are soaked!"

"I'll take it as a no..."

Peter got free from Neal and kneeled beside him. They two of them were covered with snow from head to toe and in that very moment he noticed Neal's pale face. His skin was white as the snowflakes that were covering his shoulders and hair. Looking closer he saw the he was shivering and he tucked the coat around his body tightly.

"Neal..."

"Peter ?"

"You sure to be ok?"

Anytime Peter had asked him that question he had contradicted him. He wasn't surprised of his answer though, even if he doubted about it.

"Yes, why shouldn't I?"

"Okay. Hmm, and... uh. Thanks for... you know... having caught me.."

"Oh please. We're in the snow, aren't we?"

"Help me up with the files"


	2. Chapter 2

Here is the II chapter, I hope you like it, it's not beta read (yet) so anytime you see a mistake, I'll be glad if you let me know. Thanks :)

...

They put down the boxes, near the entrance and shooke their coats while stamping their feet trying to clean them from the snow, before entering the house. Satchmo welcomed them wagging his tale happily.

Neal had never thought that the warmth of a house could cheer him up. Relieved, he felt his icy joints melting, while he followed Peter in the dining room and put down the box near the table

Neal sunk in a chair, sighing.

"What would you like to drink?" asked Peter

"Anything hot!"

"Okay! Coffee? The? Hot chocolate? Soup?"

"A coffee is perfect!"

Neal stared at Peter feeling somewhat guilty, he was doing absolutely nothing and he wasn't providing him with any help, but he was feeling tired, _too_ tired...

He was feeling like his head was too heavy for his neck and shoulders!

He put his elbows on the table and dropped the head in his hands. He closed his eyes and started rubbing his temples trying to sooth the heartbeat that pounded in his skull.

He heard the phone ringing and caught some seconds of the talk Peter was having, all seemed happening far away from him, as in a dream..."Honey... With Neal... Yes... Okay... Yes, I'm sure... . ... I love you... See you tomorrow... tomorrow... me too..." Then the silence came back, broken only by the sound of the coffee machine.

"The coffee is ready" said Peter, placing a cup in front of Neal who cracked open his eyes. The shift gave him a wave of dizziness which required a big effort to be taken under control.

"And a Tylenol pill" added the agent, setting near the cup a glass of water and a tablet

"Peter, I'm fine... I"

"Cut the crap Neal! You fell asleep in the car. You're a shade darker than Casper... I've been keeping an eye on you for a bit... Take this pill. And don't dare arguing. That's an order!"

Normally Neal would have starting arguing but, in that moment, he hadn't enough energy to do it, besides he really needed that tablet; he felt the need to sooth his headache.

He thanked Peter and took the pill.

"Was it El at the phone"

"Yup"

"Everything alright?"

"She's keen to come home but she is stuck at work. Besides all cabs are busy, the subway stop is too far and she can't walk in this conditions. She's sleeping in a hotel for tonight..."

"Oh... With her colleagues...men!"

"It's for work!"

"Wow, it seems sexy..."

Peter put the box on the table and took a sit in front of Neal

"Let's see what we have... Assurance fraud..."

"Boring"

"Documents forgeries..."

"Prescription?

"I could take a look... Too late. Oh! Oh! That one may be interesting for you... An art forgery dated 1997. That's not you, isn't it?"

"Life is full of mystery..."

"So...?"

"It's possible"

"Neal!"

"No, Peter it's not me… Okay? I'll take this"

They started reading.

The two of them were focused on the cases and nothing could be heard but the soft noise of pages being turned.

The Tylenol seemed to have worked and Neal could manage to stay concentrate on the forgeries for at least half an hour, but then the headache showed up again. His vision started blurring and the room turned too cold for him. He begun feeling cold again and couldn't control the chills

He laid the sheets on the table, instead of holding them with his hands hoping that Peter wouldn't notice his hands shaking and tried to read the last pages of his case with his head leaned on the right hand.

Peter, still stuck to his file (an old case of stolen jewels fence in which no one had already been arrested) after fifteen minutes in which he had been trying to read a paragraph again and again, closed his file and raising his gaze, saw that Neal had fallen asleep. He had his head leaning on the arms and the file was being used as a sort of pillow. He was still very pale and a damp lock was leaning on his forehead. He stretched out his hand to reach Neal's forehead

The difference of temperature between Peter's hand and Neal's hot forehead was a surprise for both of them. For a few seconds Neal seemed lost; he took a look at Peter, and then at the room he was in. He squeezed his eyes many times, puzzled and then, taking awareness of what had happened, mumbled: "Peter... I'm... sorry. I... have fallen asleep without realizing it. I'm..."

"Neal ..."

"I'm sorry. I...I'm nearly done... anyway..."

"Neal!"

"What?"

"You should lay down on the couch for awhile"

"No, I'm fine. I'll finish this one"

"Neal! You should lay down on the couch for awhile"

"But... Why?"

"Because you're burning up... That's why!"

Since Neal didn't seem eager to take his advice, staying still looking at him, Peter walked beside him and helped him getting up, holding his arm.

"Let's go"

Neal swayed a bit, once on his feet, but Peter supported him.

"Wowww! Easy!"

Peter strengthened his support putting his other arm around Neal's hip, then he noticed he was trembling and walked him in the living room, followed by Satchmo, trotting happily around them.

"No Satch! Not now. Go away!"

Peter's hard tone couldn't be clearer, so the golden Labrador trotted back to the kitchen immediately.

Neal was surprisingly quiet. He let Peter walk him towards the couch without arguing, and that obviously worried Peter so much that he didn't let him go until he was perfectly sit on the couch.

"Stay put, I'll be right back!"

Neal followed Peter with his eyes until he disappeared upstairs

He came back few minutes after, holding a thick blanket and founding Neal laid on the couch with his tie loosen, without shoes and with his knees folded to his breast and his arms tight around them trying to warm himself up.

Peter covered him with the blanket, touched his forehead but he kept on sleeping.


	3. Chapter 3

Here's the third chapter!

...

Peter took a few files from the kitchen and sunk on one of his armchairs opposite to the couch.

He realized immediately that it would be difficult to concentrate on the case as he couldn't stop staring at Neal, who was sleeping perfectly still under the blankets. He wondered if he should call a doctor if the fever wouldn't break... Even if in that situation, with the blizzard hitting New York, no one would answer his call.

Despite being worried he couldn't help finding the comic side of that situation: never had he imagined that the kid he had chased so carefully and for so long would one day sleep on his couch! The great Neal Caffrey! He was only an achy and feverish kid!

Peter spent a few hours with an eye at his documents and the another at Neal; until when he gave up and closed the files. He poured himself a cup of coffee, shifting comfortably on the armchair and let his thought wandering, thinking back at the amount time and energy he had spent trying to catch the incredibly talented and amazing forger that had eluded him many times.

Without realizing, he let himself lulling by Neal's slow and regular breathing rhythm and started snoozing until he was awake by a movement came from the couch. He turned his head and saw that Neal was still laid under the blanket nut his eyes were open and he was staring at him.

"Have you looked at me sleeping for long?"

"How're you feeling?"

"Well, I..."

Peter stood up and placed a hand on Neal's forehead, who shivered

"What are you doing?"

"May I check a thing... May I?

Willy-nilly Neal let Peter put a hand on his forehead, even if the situation seemed somewhat weird.

Peter taking care of him that way, was something he could have never imagined.

"It seems that the fever has dropped..."

"Oh... Are you also a nurse now?"

"Ha ha ha, Reeeally funny! stay put. I'm taking a thermometer"

"Peter no! Where are you going?"

"Neal, For heaven's sake! You're sick! I only wanna know how much!

He went upstairs and in few minutes he was heading downstairs with the thermometer in his hands.

He found Neal sit with the head resting in his hands.

Peter understood that we was feeling cold even with a blanket around his shoulders. He placed a hand over the shoulder to catch his attention and handed him the thermometer. Neal placed it under his tongue. The effect of the pill he had taken was gone and the headache had came back so hard, that he didn't even register Peter's absence, until a glass of water and a tablet materialized in front of him.

Peter took the thermometer as soon as he heard the beep

"102.5. You can check if you don't trust me..."

"Thanks for the trust"

Neal took the tablet and gulped the water until the glass was completely empty then he stared at it for a couple of minutes.

Peter who had seen the scene, recalled that one of the few important things that the fever treatment required was to keep the person hydrated. Without thinking too much he took the glass from Neal's hands and filled it with water. When he came back, Neal hadn't shift at all. He gulped down also the second glass of water.

"Are you feeling better?"

Neal nodded

"Thanks"

Per sat down next to him on the couch, he could hardly almost Neal's feelings. He was certainly worn out, the dark circle under his eyes made them seem much brighter by contrast.

Those very eyes he was fighting to keep opened.

"Why haven't you call me this morning and asked for a sick day?"

"It was only a bit of headache. Nothing too bad..."

"Obviously is something more than a simple headache..."

"Okay, the next time I sneeze, I promise I'll call."

"Neal I'm serious. Think about it. What if you were assigned an under covered job in these conditions. You could have made a big mistake or even worst, you could have endangered yourself!"

The two of them shared a long glance in silence. Neal nodded simply. Satisfied, Peter put a hand on the younger man's shoulder in a motion of comfort.

"Rest. Meanwhile I'll go cooking something for dinner. It's almost eight o' clock..."

"I'm not hungry...!"

"I can easy imagine that, but I think I really need eat something"

Peter started standing up when Neal grabbed his arm.

He turned and looked at Neal right in his eyes.

"Thank you... for everything!"

And in that moment in his two bright sapphires, feverish shining, Peter could see the very gratitude and sincerity he had only seen once since now, on the small airport strip the day Kate had died.


	4. Chapter 4

Here I am with chapter 4! This time it's been beta read, and correct, so you'll not fine all errors due to my translation. Hope you'll enjoy it. I wait for reviews. :)

...

Chapter IV.

Neal awakened an hour later. As soon as he woke up, he detected a delicious aroma filling the living room. Usually El was considered the only cook in the Burke residence, however, after his release from prison, Neal had spent enough time with the two of them to discover that Peter could mange his fair share of cooking as well.

Neal kept his eyes shut, savoring the smell.

He soon heard footsteps approaching to him. Something had just been placed on the coffee table next to him.

He heard Peter's voice calling him as a hand touched his blanketed arm.

He cracked open his eyes and saw that Peter was pointing at the coffee table. Upon it was a bowl of steaming hot soup. Peter waited until Neal sat up before taking a seat next to him on the couch.

Even if Neal wasn't hungry, he didn't reject the meal. He hoped that the hot soup would somehow help to sooth his sore throat.

"It's still snowing heavily. While you were asleep, I laid out some clothes for you on the bed in the guest bedroom. You ready to dress up Peter Burke style?

"Let me guess. Jogging pants and an FBI t-shirt?

"Well, flannel pajamas aren't really my style."

"Personally, I prefer silk..."

Peter cut him off. "I'm pretty sure you'll survive. Anyway, the bathroom is all yours."

At that moment, Neal realized that Peter had taken a shower as well as gotten changed. He was now wearing a pair of comfortable jeans and a brown polo shirt.

A thought struck him, as he smelled the shower gel Peter had just used.

"Oh my gosh! Now i'm gonna smell like Peter Burke too."

"You could use Elizabeth's shower gel if you want..."

"Oh gosh..."

Neal put down the spoon. The soup had in fact eased his sore throat but he still couldn't manage to eat more than half of it.

He thought a hot shower might do his feverish body some good.

However, before he knew it, he had drifted back to sleep.

A few minutes later, he woke up, maybe too fast, and the hurried movement made him feel sick. While he was waiting for the room to stop spinning, Peter was already holding him tightly. A deep sense of concern filled his eyes and shaped his taut frown.

"Neal?"

"I'll be alright in a bit... give me a minute..."

"Where did you think you were going?" Neal's hurried movement clearly didn't go unnoticed by Peter.

"To take a shower..."

"I think it might be better if I come with you."

"No, no, I'm fine. I'll go.."

Neal got free from Peter's hold and was already heading towards the stairs when he realized he was being followed. He stopped, threw a glance at his tail, and without turning, said "Whatcha doing Peter?"

"I'm making sure that you don't break your collarbone falling down the stairs."

Neal turned towards Peter and watched as the older man pointed to the stairs with both his hands in a rather theatrical way.

"After you!"

"You're worst than my mother!"

Neal bit his tongue. Too late!

"Oh, oh, oh, I want more details...!"

" Oooh, no, no, no. Not going to happen!"

Neal slowly walked up the stairs, using the railing to support himself. Peter followed close behind.

"What would she do when you were sick?"

No answer.

"Would she put a cold towel on your forehead?"

More silence.

"Would she make you soup?"

Nothing.

"Got it! She would give you something to help you sleep."

"Are you done?"

"Almost. Would she sing you a song?"

Still no answer.

"Come on, at least give me a clue!"

"No way!"

Neal stopped in the guest bedroom to collect the clothes Peter had laid out for him earlier. He had almost guessed correctly, he thought, as he gathered up the gray jogging pants and a simple white t-shirt. At least the mundane outfit was comfortable.

When he stepped out, Peter was waiting for him in front of the bathroom.

"What, are you gonna follow me into the shower? I was hoping to have some privacy."

"Ok, stop it. I'll leave you alone. But yell if you need anything. Towels are in the closet near the bathtub. The green toothbrush is yours."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

Neal locked the door.

His image in the mirror nearly scared him. There wasn't the slightest ounce of color in his face and his skin was frighteningly pale. He had dark circles under his eyes as well as a few sweat-dampened curls stuck to both his forehead and neck.

Before undressing, he took a towel from the closet and put it to the side. Then, as quickly as possible, given his aching joints, he let himself sink into the tub.  
The hot water immediately relaxed him.

- - -

Peter thought about going downstairs and turning on the TV, but instead, had decided to stay near the bathroom, just in case Neal needed his help.  
He entered his bedroom, but left the door open, so that he could hear if Neal yelled for him.

He then lay down on the bed, enjoying his first break in that unusually frantic day. He stayed in that position for about ten minutes. He desperately wanted to sleep, but he resisted the urge and stayed awake. He needed to know that Neal was safe, in bed, under a heap of blankets, before he could finally relax.

Finally, he heard the bathroom door open.

He stepped back into the hallway and couldn't help but smile as he looked at his partner's unconventional outfit.

Peter's clothes, too large for Neal, made him seem thinner and younger than he actually was. He then noticed that he had rolled up the t-shirt sleeves as well as the pant legs.

"Maybe I should have given you Elizabeth's clothes..."

"Ha, ha. Really funny!"

Peter opened the door to the guest room and invited Neal in. The kid sat on the bed and lay back, closing his eyes smiling. However, the pounding headache soon made him involuntarily frown.

"Headache again?"

"Hmm"

He thought of opening his eyes as he answered Peter. However, he knew better than to do that. The light would certainly worsen his headache.

He shifted his legs, laying his entire body down on the bed. He hoped that sleeping would help to soothe his pain.

Peter went downstairs to the kitchen, getting Neal a bottle of water and a couple of pills.

Once he returned to the guest bedroom, he realized that Neal had fallen asleep without even bothering to cover himself with the blankets.

He hesitated, unsure of whether to let him sleep or to wake the kid up so that he could get under the blankets.

Due to the unusually cold weather, sleeping like that would most likely worsen his fever during the night.

He had made his decision.

He sat up on the bed, and put a hand on Neal's shoulder. He cracked open his eyes, and gratefully accepted both the pills and the water.

However, despite his exhaustion, Neal noticed the worried look in Peter's eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that, Peter! I have a cold, I'm not dying!"

"Have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror recently?"

Neal thought a bit before answering.

"Okay, you're right. But I'm sure I'll be better by tomorrow."

"Neal, if you need anything, even during..."

Neal stopped his sentence, raising his hand.

"I knew you'd say that."

"I'm being serious!"

Neal looked at him grinning.

"I think you're worrying too much"

"Don't get used to it." Peter answered, pointing at him. Then, trying not to yawn, he added, "Good night, Neal."

"Good night, Peter."

Peter headed towards the door, while Neal slipped under the blankets. Before leaving the room, he threw a final glance at the kid. Satisfied that Neal was safe under the warm comforters, he closed the door behind him.

Neal turned off the light and pulled the blanket up under his chin.

Despite the room's warmth, that damn fever kept making him shiver. At least the pills Peter had given him had alleviated his headache somewhat, even if his sore throat still hadn't let up.

He closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep soon. However, he was suddenly distracted by sounds coming from the master bedroom. Even though they were soft, they kept drawing his attention.

Neal realized he was not used to other people's presence, as he listened to Peter getting ready to go to sleep.

But after a few minutes, silence once again filled the house. Only the soft noise of the blizzard outside his bedroom window could be heard. An exhausted Neal, choosing to simply disregard this sound, peacefully drifted off to sleep.


End file.
